


My I

by kwonbagel



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancer Wen Jun Hui, First Meetings, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Photographer Xu Ming Hao | The8, Swearing, University Student Wen Jun Hui | Jun, University Student Xu Ming Hao | The8, Wen Jun Hui | Jun is a Sweetheart, chan done screwed up so housewife mingyu to the rescue, drip drip my ragu sauce, haohao is an adorable fairy, meh i tried, poor wonwoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 14:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18284360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwonbagel/pseuds/kwonbagel
Summary: Minghao's march fucking madness.Or alternatively, Minghao needs a muse, Junhui runs a food blog, and the universe has a kink for coincidences.





	My I

**Author's Note:**

> the intro is weird because this was originally a crack but I changed my mind.

Minghao knew he was screwed the moment he saw the expired frosting in his fridge and ate it anyway. Stress eating does things to you. He doesn’t even like frosting. 

 

“Fuck you Mr. Choi and the stupid fucking project that you assigned for spring fucking break,” Minghao bitterly muttered as he aggressively shoved a mountain of frosting into his mouth.  “And of course you just have to make my life hell and make me just casually ask a random stranger, ‘Hey! Can I like photograph you for purposes I can’t say but I promise I’m not selling them.’ Real fucking intelligent.” 

 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Wonwoo, his roommate, could be heard, between his coughing fits, from under his pile of blankets on their other couch. 

 

“Yeah because you got out of it thanks to the Mingyu plague,” Minghao rolled his eyes as he stabbed his spoon into the tube to get more frosting. Mingyu was well-known for his constant colds as well as being a clingy puppy in general. Poor Wonwoo was his boyfriend.

 

“What are you eating?” Wonwoo’s head peeped out from under his blankets to look over at Minghao. He wrinkled his disgust when he saw the frosting. “I’m pretty sure we’ve had that since Mingyu’s baking phase.”

 

“Yeah, probably,” Minghao cracked his elbow as he went to get the last shovel of frosting left.

 

“That was in November.” 

 

“What’s your fucking point, Jeon,” Minghao sank into the couch, closing his eyes. He was exhausted. People were exhausting.

 

“It’s March,” Wonwoo replied expectantly as if Minghao had enough energy to give a single fuck.

 

He didn’t. 

 

“Wonwoo, remember that one time with the ragu sauce-”

 

“We don’t mention the ragu sauce,” Wonwoo groaned into the cushion as Minghao gave a small fond smile. He missed high school sometimes. (If you didn’t count the sea of idiots he slowly drowned in for four fucking years.)

 

The ragu sauce story was for another time.

 

~

 

When the blonde runner, wearing obnoxiously colored sneakers and a neon headband, gave him a toothy grin, Minghao’s morning was officially ruined.  _ Fucking optimists. Disgusting.  _ (His mood was slightly better after said runner dropped his bag of thirty oranges. “Hoshit!” the blonde runner fell onto the sidewalk in despair as the oranges tumbled onto the street.)

 

Minghao fiddled with the camera hanging around his neck as he walked down the busy street, looking for a someone to be his muse. More like hoping someone would notice his internal crisis and ask if he needed help. 

 

A crowd had formed ahead of him and his interest peaked as he heard music coming from it. Pushing his way through, his eyes eventually landed on the person that had caught the crowd's attention. His breath hitched in his throat. He was fucking beautiful. 

 

The lean man was absorbed in dancing to the song, each move filled with precision and passion. Minghao's eyes soaked in every movement of the taller. 

 

Snapping out of his trance, Minghao grabbed for his camera. The shutter went off as he started to take the photos of the other, who had taken notice of Minghao but continued dancing without a misstep. As the music began to fade off and the crowd dissipated. The dancer, who was decked in white, walked over to Minghao. 

 

“Did you get any good photos?” He politely asked Minghao.  

 

“Oh, um, I haven’t looked yet,” Minghao explained, dying inside from socialization with the stranger. “Is it okay if I photographed you, it’s for a project and-”

 

“What’s the project?” The other looked genuinely interested in what Minghao had to say. That was a first. 

 

“So I have to photograph a stranger that...well, part of it is I can’t say why otherwise it defeats the purpose…” Minghao’s voice trailed off, not knowing how to explain it in a normal way.  _ Damn it, he probably thinks I’m some human trafficker or something.  _ What the man said next took him by surprise. 

 

“That’s interesting, my name’s Junhui. I think we might be able to help each other actually.”

  
  


“Help you how?” Minghao questioned when Junhui didn’t continue. 

 

“I have a food blog. You could take photos of the food for me,” his eyes widened in enthusiasm at the chance of mentioning his blog. 

 

“That isn’t what I expected you to say at all,” Minghao blinked in surprise at Junhui, who was just picking at his white sleeves.  

 

“Well, you know what they say about books,” Junhui’s eyes glistened as he smiled at Minghao. 

 

“Oh god, you believe that bullshit,” Minghao groaned. Don’t judge a book by its cover was an overused, useless saying in his partially biased, pessimistic opinion. People would judge anyway. 

 

“Though I suppose you’re right. You looked cute and it turns out you are cute,” Junhui patted his cheeks before walking down the sidewalk. “Come on fairy, let me buy you a coffee.”

 

“W-what,” Minghao sputtered out, jogging to catch up. “And don’t call me that!”

 

“Well, I don’t know your name, and I had to call you something,” Junhui pointed it out if it was obvious, which to be fair it was but still.

 

“My name’s Minghao,” Minghao rolled his eyes in slight irritation. 

 

“As you wish, Haohao.” Minghao raised his arm to smack him on the shoulder but was stopped by Junhui interlacing his slender fingers into the others. Minghao yanked his hand away and shoved his hands into his pockets, away from physical contact. 

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Minghao nagged the taller boy. “We just met. This isn’t some fanfiction where we just met and suddenly start hooking up with an unrealistically generous amount of lube.” 

 

“Uh, I just didn’t want you to hit me?” Junhui gave the other boy a weird look of confusion.  _ Well, fuck,  _ Minghao scolded himself.  _ This is why you don’t have friends.  _

 

“Sorry, I just-” Minghao stumbled over his words, becoming more flustered by the second. 

 

“Coffee?” Junhui held open the door to the coffee shop, Love Shot. 

“Yes please,” Minghao ducked into the cafe and busied himself with figuring out his order, to try and erase the past six minutes. He felt someone shuffling next to him, and he closed his eyes in momentary regret of his existence. 

 

“So what are you getting?” Junhui leaned in to ask him, breath tickling his ear. Minghao scooted away slightly. 

 

“I think the My I,” Minghao replied after glancing through the menu and Junhui immediately perked up.

 

“That’s my favorite!” Junhui visibly vibrated in an unnecessary amount of excitement and Minghao took five steps back. Every time Minghao thought the boy couldn’t be more unusual and every time he was proven wrong. And it had only been eight minutes since they met. “We’ll have two My I’s,” Junhui told the barista, whose name tag read Jungwoo, and handed him his card before Minghao had time to react. 

 

“Hey! I can pay for myself!” Minghao huffed as Jungwoo swiped the card. Junhui just smiled at him with his slightly creepy, yet endearing smile. (You know the one, dear reader.) 

 

“Go find us a seat and then we can talk more about our deal?” Junhui offered and Minghao reluctantly agreed, gently setting his camera (that he may or may not have named carat because goddammit he is an independent adult and he can if he wants to)  down on the table. 

 

“One My I for my handsome self and one My I for the cute fairy, Haohao,” Junhui slid the cup over to Minghao. 

 

“Wow,” Minghao, choosing to ignore the nickname, looked at the other in what could be assumed as awe (it wasn’t). “Are you always that full of yourself?” 

 

“You’re the only one that can be confident for yourself,” Junhui just shrugged before taking a sip of his coffee. Minghao noticed the smile slightly fall off his face as it was hidden behind the cup. He had unintentionally hit a nerve. “Fake it until you make it, I suppose.” Minghao felt like he should say something but didn’t know what. He wasn’t good at these kinds of things. 

“Enough about me, so is your major photography?” 

 

“Yeah,” Minghao said simply, not knowing what else to add. He had always been unsure of himself in situations like these. It had taken him two years of living with Wonwoo to warm up to the thin boy. 

 

“Where do you study at?” Junhui leaned closer, wanting to get to know Minghao. 

 

“Pledis university.”

 

“Really? I do too,” Junhui’s eyes glistened at the information, he was surprised he hadn’t seen the other with them both being in the fine arts. 

 

“Let me guess, dance major,” Minghao pursued his lips, and Junhui had to internally chant to himself that he didn’t, in fact, have a lip kink ( Hansol, his roommate, would disagree but that was for another time.)  

 

“Voice major actually.” 

 

“You just keep surprising me,”  Minghao raised his eyebrows, leaning back into his chair and loosening his grip on his cup as he began to feel comfortable. “Do you happen to know Jihoon?”

 

“Do you? Wait, that was stupid. I mean obviously, you do. But yeah, he’s in a few of my classes and…” 

 

Minghao smiled after Junhui walked behind him to leave, having to get ready for one of his night classes. Maybe he had judged his cover after all. He elected to ignore the quickened beat in his chest and repress the light feeling in his head as he fiddled with the cup in between his hands. ( or the fact they had completely forgotten to plan out their deal.)

 

And at the bottom of the said cup, there was a phone number.

 

He took 52 photos of it. Safety precautions after all.

  
  


~

 

**Unknown:** hey, this is Minghao.

 

**[Unknown changed Unknown’s contact name to Haohao]**

 

**Unknown:** Hi, my cute haohao!1!1! >v<

 

**Haohao:** .

**Haohao:** sigh

**Haohao:** I feel like im going to regret this 

**Haohao:** anyway, when are you free this week

 

**Unknown:** are you asking me on a date already

 

**Haohao:** to work on our deal

**Haohao:** when can you

 

**Unknown:** okay okay

**Unknown** : ive dance practice on campus tuesday until three but then im free

 

**Haohao:** we can meet by pompeys statue then??

 

**Unknown:** yea

 

**Haohao:** okay good, see you then 

 

**Unknown:** yayayayayay

**Unknown:** so are you going to give me a contact name

 

**Haohao:** no 

 

**Unknown:** :( 

 

**[Haohao changed Unknown’s contact name to Junhui]**

 

**Junhui:** :)

 

“Hey,” Minghao called out to the figure that he took notice of as he looked up from his phone. He was sitting on a bench under Pompey’s statue at Pledis University. Grabbing his bag, he stood up and slung it across his shoulder as Junhui neared. They looked like polar opposites, Minghao wearing a casual cardigan with some slacks and then there was Junhui wearing loose sweats from dance practice. 

 

“Hi Haohao,” Junhui gave him a small wave as he stopped next to Minghao, who was looking as cute as always in Junhui’s completely unbiased (sure boy, keep telling yourself that) and fair opinion. 

 

“Stop calling me that,” Minghao told the other but a part of him didn’t seem to mind. “So...where did you have in mind to eat?” Junhui started to walk off and took his hand (Minghao may not have yanked his hand away this time. If you asked him, he would say it was because he was distracted about where they were going. Junhui would argue that it was because he was smooth. Of course, this theoretical argument has never happened in the future.) 

 

“Well, there’s this place really close that I’ve heard has the best quality food in this area. Which is perfect for my blog,” Junhui pointed farther up the street and Minghao’s eyes followed. The sign on the building read: Jing-mei’s. 

 

“Are your readers broke college students here?” 

 

“No, tourists from America,” when Minghao doesn’t say anything he adds, “Of course they’re Pledis students, my blog is written in fucking Korean.” 

 

“Shut up.”

 

“As you wish, my Haohao,” Junhui laughed at this own joke but Minghao just groaned. 

 

“Stop referencing The Princess Bride,” Junhui pouted at these words but kept his mouth shut as they walked to Jing-mei’s. 

 

Soon enough they were seated by the host, Jeonghan. He didn’t look pleased to be there, to say the least, having slammed two half-empty cups of water onto their table before walking off back to the host counter. 

 

“Going to write that into your review?” Minghao raised his eyebrow at Junhui, who smiled back sheepishly.

 

“Maybe he’s having an off-day? Who knows, maybe satan owns a restaurant.” (He did, it was called Angel’s Burgers, ironically enough. But that was a story for another time.) 

 

“So, I was thinking,” Minghao took a sip of his lukewarm water. “We could do a photo shoot tomorrow so I can get the photos I need.”

 

“Yeah, I think that’s-” Junhui was cut off as a young boy, wearing an apron and a white button up, stopped in front of their table. 

 

“Welcome to Jing-mei’s. I’m Chan and I’ll be your waiter today,” the younger looking waiter, Chan, smiled politely at them as he pulled out a pad of tickets. “What can I start you off with?” 

 

“I’ll just have a burger,” Minghao handed Junhui his menu as Junhui ordered The Chef’s Special. 

 

“Alright,” Chan nervously glanced between the two. He took a long pause before he hastily scribbled it down of the pad. “It’ll be out shortly.” 

 

“What is that?” Minghao looked over at Junhui in curiosity. Junhui melted inside at the site of the cute boy’s slight head tilt. 

 

“I have no clue.”

 

“Then why would you get it,” Minghao sputtered in absolute disbelief. 

 

“Everyone raves about it so I’m sure it must be amazing,” Junhui bounced in his seat in excitement, imagining all the possibilities.  _ God, I hope it’s steak.  _

 

It was supposed to be. Was. 

 

Meanwhile in the kitchen of Jing-mei’s:

 

“Mingyu! What do I do?,” Chan screeched into Mingyu’s face as he ran into the kitchen. “I told some customers we could make the Chef’s Special when the chef isn’t fucking here!!!” The owner of the shop was to be gone for the week at a cooking convention and left the management for that time period to Mingyu. 

 

“Well, why would you do that!” Mingyu screamed back at the hyperventilating boy. 

 

“It’s my first day! I panicked, okay!?!?”

 

Mingyu looked down at the anxious boy and suddenly couldn’t help but feel pity. “Calm down, I’ll figure...something out. Just don’t tell the other customers the same thing,” Mingyu sighed but smiled as Chan jumped onto him and gave him a tight hug. 

 

_ What the fuck am I going to do?  _ Mingyu internally cursed at himself as he went out to youtube because that’s where you go when your life is a hot fucking mess. 

 

_ Warning: The Swedish Chef is a trained professional. (Sort of.) Do not try this at home. (Seriously.) Thanks. (Really!) _

 

              “Sure, why not. Sound legit,” The chef’s son shrugged, setting his phone down onto the counter to grab the ingredients. 

It was a dire mistake on his part. 

 

Poor Junhui. 

 

“So I’m guessing you don’t want to do a photo shoot tomorrow?” Minghao looked away as Junhui vomited in one of the stalls at Jing-mei’s. 

“Raincheck,” Junhui managed to choke out. 

  
  


One new notification: PrinceJun’s blog update!

 

Jing-mei’s

 

Save yourself the stomach ache and don’t go. The host was completely satanic and the waiter was extremely nervous. 

Is the chef even trained? Whatever the special is, DO NOT ORDER IT. It looked like Ragu creamy mozzarella sauce but with a terrible twist in the taste. I will never be able to look a Ragu creamy mozzarella sauce again. 

(Sorry to my partner who I made go with me. Mwah, haohao. But look at that beautiful photo above, they took that!) 

  
  
  


~

  
  
  


**Haohao:** Junhui, are you feeling better?

**Haohao:** if you are, maybe we could do the shoot at my apartment

 

**Junhui:** ofc fairy haohao, anything for you 

 

**Haohao:** Im starting to think it was a horrific idea to ask you to help me 

 

**Junhui:** An idea is like a virus, resilient, highly contagious. The smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define or destroy you.

 

**Haohao:** you watch inception too much

**Haohao:** whats w ur movie references

 

**Junhui:** tis a good movie (yet you knew wat movies theyre from)

 

**Haohao:** not enough to watch it 17 times (touche) 

 

**Junhui:** dont judge me

**Junhui:** youve ur habits & ive mine\

 

**Haohao:** sigh

**Haohao:** any fuckong way

**Haohao:** will you be free

 

**Junhui:** fUckOnG

**Junhui:** my schedule is always clear for you

 

**Haohao:** pls stop^2

**Haohao: [location attached]**

  
  


The next time they ventured out (or rather Junhui went over to Minghao’s apartment), Junhui was dressed in nicer clothes. Well, a sweater but that was an improvement in Minghao’s eyes. It was a least somewhat photogenic. 

 

“What are you doing?” Junhui asked as he saw Minghao running around the run as he moved things, tripod standing in the middle of the room.

 

“I’ll be done in just a second. And don’t ask anything,” Minghao scolded him as he saw Junhui walking toward the expensive equipment. 

 

“Fine, as you wish Haohao,” Junhui pouted as he plopped onto one of the couches in the open, minimal space. 

 

Instead of the expected annoyance, Minghao just smiled brightly. “Okay, just sit on that stool and pose.” Junhui attempted to do just that, it turned out completely unnatural. After a few takes, Minghao stopped himself from sighing. “How about some music, just act natural.” Junhui nodded his head and Minghao put his playlist on shuffle. As the music began to slow hum from his phone and the sun cascaded perfectly down onto Junhui's golden skin and the creamy background, everything looked natural. 

 

Except for Junhui, the focus of the concept.  Minghao’s patience was put to the test. 

 

The music didn’t help in the slightest. It turned out Junhui was just a terrible model, but Minghao couldn’t find a part of him to care as he sent the finalized edits to his teacher. It had fit the theme of the project after all. What reminded you of home. And it just so happened Junhui was a dancer, a passion Minghao had long forgotten back, far away in China. The universe always had a kink for coincidences. 

 

To:  [ choi.s@pledis.edu ](mailto:choi.s@pledis.edu)

From:  [ xuminghao_o@naver.com ](mailto:xuminghao_o@naver.com)

Subject: My I 

**Author's Note:**

> wonwowwwww maggot, good job for not killing anybody or including a butter knife (if you are confused about this, dont question it and move on with your life)


End file.
